Why binge?

Although I can remember what used to set me off, I asked someone what it is that gets her going. For her it is stress and worry. Why can these factors lead us to eat? I guess it has to do with helplessness and lack of control. We know that we cannot prevent the inevitable — be it an illness, an accident, sudden unemployment, or some other crisis.

I suggest meditating, or just sitting with eyes closed for a few minutes and repeating an affirmation: “Everything will be all right. I do not need to eat.” Often it’s just those critical few minutes. Once they pass, you can breathe with relief and it’s over. (Until the next time!)

But I want to look deeper at the fear, and the strange logic that would lead us to eat. It is very uncomfortable for a control freak like myself to face the prospect of lack of control. By eating, that added a really strange perspective which turned it into: “If I hadn’t been so busy eating… If I didn’t have such a headache from puking… If I wasn’t so high on the sugar… — then perhaps I could have prevented this or that.” Often nothing happens, it’s just the fear of potential crisis. Yet the possibility of blaming ourselves is somehow comforting, because that implies that it is in our hands. It implies that we have the power to control events. It also serves to distract us from our fear. So this self-destructive impulse is actually a protective mechanism to help us deal with our fear of the unknown. The only problem is: It doesn’t work.

Life still brings us surprises, and not all of them are pleasant. However, at some point I realized that by not bingeing, by being awake, alert and strong, I actually had a much better chance of dealing with whatever situation arose. Not that my head is clear all the time, but it’s definitely an improvement over the days of bingeing.

We eating-disordered are very sensitive people. And life is sometimes unbearable. Although I wrote in one post that I’m expecting a miracle, things don’t look good. It is unbearable, but sometimes people we know and love get severely ill. Sometimes they die. That is a hard reality, but we have to live with it. Another reality is: Things happen, whether we binge or not. On the other hand, I’m still expecting a miracle. I just don’t know what it will be. That’s because I have hope, faith and trust in life — despite appearances. Most of the time, at least. But I still cry, punch the pillow and say it’s not fair. The difference is, after that I feel better somehow. After bingeing and vomiting I never felt better — generally worse.